In Which Everything Is Better
by Perryels
Summary: Of boo-boos and kisses, and how this had kept on from Midorima and Takao's childhood up until now. (AU where Midorima and Takao are childhood friends, part ways, but eventually meet up again).


**I wrote this after having a lovely chat with Maria (kuro-chin|tumblr)!**

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**In Which Everything Is Better**

Sometime during kindergarten, Shintarou unknowingly found company in the form of a peculiar boy. They were roughly the same age with a gap of only a few months. The boy was extremely active, obnoxiously loud, and carefree. Most of the children in class enjoyed being around him, and so they always were. Shintarou didn't. But they always stuck side by side each other anyway, Shintarou wasn't sure why.

At times, Shintarou would not be able to keep up with the other boy's energy. He would be all over the place—_everywhere_ exploring _everything_, like he was seeing the world for the first time. This was simply not like Shintarou—he'd view the world from coloured picture books as he sat quietly in a corner. Shintarou tried distancing himself, thinking, _'we're just too different,'_ but it seemed that the boy had found ways to drag him back into his little bubble, like a magnet pulling Shintarou in. Eventually, Shintarou had lost all strength to resist. Also, Shintarou now understood the phrase 'opposites attract'.

The boy had then referred to Shintarou as his 'friend'. Nobody ever called Shintarou their friend before. It was an…o_kay_ feeling. Also nice and warm, like hot cocoa in the middle of a cold winter night.

Without even realizing it, Shintarou and the boy had become inseparable.

Shintarou would have to admit though, that the boy could be somewhat persistent for his liking. He would insist that he come along with him on his 'adventures' (as the boy had stated). "Let's blast off to mars!" literally translated to going as high as he could on the swings. Or "I'm gunna climb the mountains!" was actually climbing the tallest tree he could find in the backyard of the kindergarten.

Shintarou would reply with a shake of the head, "That's too dangerous," as he adjusted his oversized glasses above the bridge of his nose.

"But Shin-chan…" The boy would whine with that all-too familiar nickname not even his mother had called him. "It'll be fun! I promise!"

Despite his reluctance, Shintarou would follow after him. Mostly to watch over him and make sure he didn't break a bone or something, because the chances of this happening were high. Why? The boy had gotten into more minor accidents than the amount of cookies he'd eaten during snack time—and that was a lot.

Shintarou had taken it upon himself to, more or less, take care of the boy. Because he was the mature one here. At least, that's what he'd like to think. Also, he liked to say 'I told you so' when he was proven right.

"Shin-chan!" The boy called for him, and Shintarou could only guess why. Instinctively, Shintarou made his way towards him. The boy was sitting on his bottom, dirt all over his face, and an unpleasant looking graze on his chin. "It hurts."

Of course it would hurt, Shintarou thought to himself. The boy had slid down from the slide on his belly, and when he'd reached the bottom, a rock had scraped his chin. How could it_not_ hurt. "I told you it was a bad idea. Now you have a boo-boo." The boy only sobbed quietly, as if he was guilty for even attempting such a thing.

Shintarou released a breath and turned around.

"Shin-chan! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get bandages."

A few seconds later, Shintarou had returned with the promised bandages, even a first aid kit. The boy had already gotten used to how Shintarou treated his wounds, so it didn't sting anymore when Shintarou had dabbed a bit of medicine on the cut to keep it from being infected. After that was done, Shintarou gently put a bandage on it—the bandage was green, as per request.

But something hadn't been quite right. The boy was still sobbing.

"You're not okay yet?" Shintarou asked.

The boy shook his head. "It still hurts," he said. Well, Shintarou _did_ notice that it was a deeper cut than usual.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Shin-chan, you need to kiss it better." The boy nodded resolutely, as if in agreement with himself.

"That's preposterous! Kisses don't make boo-boos better." Shintarou argued.

"My mommy always does it and it always makes things better!" The boy argued back. Shintarou kept silent. Would he _really_ believe this? But the boy's mother had done it, and she's an adult. And according to Shintarou, adults were never wrong. "Please, Shin-chan?"

Shintarou was thinking.

"_Pleaasee_?" The boy had looked up at him with those big, round innocent, icy-blue eyes.

And after a few more moments of thinking, Shintarou sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he said and bent down so his face was in level with the other's. "Just once." Shintarou shut his eyes, and leaned forward to plant a small kiss over the green bandage. After he'd pulled back, the boy smiled at him.

The next day, the boy hadn't come to class. Sensei said he was going to move to a different town, and he was busy packing up. It was unfortunate. Shintarou didn't even get the chance to ask if he really _did_ feel better afterwards.

Now Shintarou was never going to find out.

. . .

Midorima's thoughts were cut off when a loud yelp pierced through the air. It sounded like someone had just been stabbed in the gut, thankfully, that wasn't the case. But it did in fact grab the attention of the team, and they'd actually stopped in the middle of whatever it was they were doing to turn at the source.

"Oi, Takao! You alright?" Captain Ootsubo yelled from the other side of the court.

"More or less, but—_ugh._"

"Boys don't cry, brat!" Miyaji commented from another end. This was the senpai's way of showing concern.

"Hey, isn't that a song?" Kimura asked. The answer was left unsaid.

All the while, Midorima was observing from the side. He'd clearly witnessed how Takao sprinted, touched the floor a little too late that he was thrown off balance, and had landed on his knee first, skidding a few inches forward. Takao's knee wasn't looking so good, and it was probably time for Midorima to make his way over to him.

He did with a first aid kit in hand.

Takao was on the floor. He wasn't crying or anything—okay, maybe just a _bit_ of sobbing. The cuts on his knee weren't deep—they were mostly just scratches. But there were red marks where the skin had been peeled off, and it didn't look attractive.

Takao huffed and started to pick at the skin, when something—_someone_ had slapped his hand away.

"You're not supposed to do it like that. It's going to get worse."

"Ah, Shin-chan, you came," Takao beamed at Midorima just as the other had squatted down next to him.

"I don't have a choice. Was I supposed to just leave you here?"

Takao pouted. "You might as well have if you're going to be like that," he spat. As if the physical pain wasn't already enough damage, Shin-chan had to be mean about it, too.

Midorima ignored that and proceeded to treat the injury. "You're clumsy as always, Takao."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Everything after that was spent in silence, except for when Takao had taken in sharp breathes and muffled some groans because there was no ointment for the wound, and Midorima had to settle with alcohol to make sure that no infection would occur.

Finally, Midorima finished up with a bandage over the injured area. The bandage was green, _as per request._

"Hey, Shin-chan?"

"Hm?"

"Why don't you kiss my boo-boo to make the pain go away, like when we were younger?"

Midorima shot his head up, surprised at the question, flustering at how Takao had dug up something so deeply buried in the past and said it in the most casual way. "Takao, don't bring up such embarrassing things," Midorima said.

"Ouch, Shin-chan," Takao feigned hurt, even turning away for that dramatic effect. "You think it's embarrassing."

That obviously wasn't what Midorima meant, but, "It's just that…" he trailed off, stumbling for the words as he tried to defend himself. But Takao wasn't saying anything else. He was only staring up at Midorima, expectant, waiting for him to do something. When they kept this up for a few more seconds, Midorima knew that there was no way out of this. He sighed in defeat. "Fine," he said, leaning in. "Just once." And then Midorima had gently pressed his lips on Takao's knee.

But it didn't stop there as Takao decided that he'd try his luck. Just as Midorima pulled back, Takao had grabbed his chin and,

"Takao!" Midorima yelled in outrage, jerking back to part their lips.

"What? It's more effective this way, you know?"

Midorima glared at him. He wasn't _that_ much of a fool to fall for this again. "I don't believe your stories anymore. And I shouldn't have from the start," he said dismissively, and was about to stand up to make his dignified exit, when Takao had grabbed him by the wrist.

"Wait, Shin-chan!" Takao said, pulling Midorima hard that he'd actually toppled over him. It didn't matter though, that Midorima was partially crushing him—the weight of a 195-cm tall guy was no joke—what mattered was Takao saying his piece.

Midorima, of course, did his best to carry his own weight—even tried to get off, but Takao's arms around his nape kept him from doing so.

"Remember that time long ago when I stupidly slid down the slide on my belly and bruised my chin…" Takao paused and chuckled at the memory. "And you kissed it?"

"Yes, I remember." How could Midorima forget? Takao leaving without a goodbye was also something Midorima could never forget.

"Well, it really did feel better afterwards!" Takao beamed at him. The tone of his voice sounded genuine, it was hard not to believe.

"Did it honestly?" Midorima asked.

"_Honestly."_

After ten years, Midorima's question was finally answered.

. . .

On the benches, captain Ootsubo, Miyaji, and Kimura were proposing a '_NO_ _PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION'_ rule inside the court. Coach Nakatani was starting to consider it.


End file.
